


Aquarius

by certaincatastrophe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, SPN - Freeform, TW: Self Harm, TW: cutting, Torture, Violence, aquarius, demon, dream - Freeform, first, ornias, protective!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certaincatastrophe/pseuds/certaincatastrophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my first written fanfiction, but I hope you guys like it. Please leave comments if you think it's good/needs something!</p>
<p>Dean and Sam are off on what they think is a regular hunt, but when Dean comes face to face with an upper level demon, everything he's ever suppressed comes to the surface as he's reminded of all the mistakes he's made and problems he's caused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aquarius

**Author's Note:**

> This fic starts after 9.06 but before 9.09.

                It had started as a pretty regular job; weird weather patterns, black eyes, death. Sam had said it seemed like there was a low number of demons in the town, considering that only three of the citizens had been found dead about a week after their “strange behaviour” had begun. Dean had scoffed and leaned over to read the article on the screen.

                “It won’t hurt for us to deal with a couple of demons, Dean,” Sam exclaimed, turning to his older brother. “I’ll be fine. And you’ve been acting like a trapped animal since you got back.”

                Dean’s mind had flashed back to Rexford and the events that had occurred there, but he only allowed himself a second before glaring at Sam and reminding him of the trials.

                “Dean, I feel fine. Now, are we going to stop some demons or not?”

                He sighed.

 

                The head demon they had been tracking (or trying to, anyway) had strung them along, setting up dead ends and outliers for the boys. After a week, it seemed that they had finally found its main quarters and were preparing on stopping it for good.

                He wasn’t surprised when the trail led right to an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the town. Demons liked the dark, but they also preferred the cold air against the fires of Hell, and the small town in Nebraska was perfect. But the dead body count had risen to numbers that terrified even the Chief of Police, and that was Sam and Dean’s sign to find and kill the son of a bitch.

                It had looked like a relatively normal abandoned building, aside from the smell of sulfur. As the boys continued deeper into the building, Sam had nodded that he was going to search a different floor. Dean gave him a hard _be careful_ look and walked on. 

                He had found the open room on the third floor, the old machines either removed or lying in ruins, and building debris scattered across the floor. The cool night breeze came from the missing spots in the walls and ceiling, and Dean could see his breath as his scanned the room for any trace of the demon.

                A small sound came from behind him and he spun around, weapon ready. Three rats raised their heads to the light of the flashlight in his hand, then darted away. Dean turned to continue his search and met a human face with black eyes. It smiled at his surprise and knocked him away with a twitch of its hand.

                Dean struggled to get to his feet and defend himself at the same time. He pulled out the knife and faced the demon, but it had vanished from his sight. Dean didn’t move, only looked and listened. He heard breathing from behind him and ducked, swinging his arm with the knife as he spun. The demon hissed and stepped back as it broke the skin.

                The eldest Winchester stood a few steps away and grinned. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not polite to sneak up on someone?” he taunted, preparing for the attack. Dean didn’t expect the demon to lower its head and close its eyes. When it looked up again, the eyes were no longer black. They were a bright orange, like a sunset, and they were staring through him.

                “I knew you’d come. All you and your brother needed was a little push, something to fight against. Making it seem like a reckless, lower-level demon wasn’t hard- most of them don’t know what they’re doing anyways,” the demon smirked, grinning at Dean’s confusion. It took a step forward. “I am Ornias.”

                Dean had never heard of this demon, but considering it had lured them here under a guise, he was not only curious but concerned. _Where was Sam?_  “If you so much as touch my brother-” he threatened. The demon interrupted, “Calm yourself. I cannot hurt him.” It flashed its teeth as it went on. “I hunt only those born under the Water Bearer, those like yourself.”

                Suddenly, Dean was thrown against one of the columns still holding up the building. He twisted, struggling against the demon’s hold.

                “Although, it isn’t hard to persuade a demon to kill off a few random humans for a chance out of Hell. That made sure you two wouldn’t connect any bits of information to me.” Ornias walked closer as it talked, with its orange gaze still fixed on Dean. “You were the ultimate target, Dean Winchester.”

                An invisible force ripped Dean’s leather jacket from his body and tossed it aside, leaving only the short sleeved shirt he wore underneath. Ornias’s smile grew as the demon came within arm’s reach of Dean, and its hands became the claws similar to that of a lion’s. The Winchester groaned as his right arm was grabbed at the wrist and fire surged throughout his body.

                “You’ve struggled for a long time. Ever since the death of your mother, pain has accompanied everything you do. Every choice that you’ve made. Every death you’ve survived. Yet you bury it deep inside you,” the demon’s voice lowered to a whisper as it leaned in, “where it eats away at whatever humanity you had left.” Ornias laughed as it backed away and looked down at Dean’s bare skin. “If you hadn’t pushed all that pain down, this wouldn’t have hurt as much.”

                Dean yelled as a single nail ripped across the delicate skin of his wrist. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, but he could feel the demon’s satisfaction as Ornias continued in the same fashion up his arm. Blood dripped from his hand onto the ground, and the scratches in his arms burned as though he was in Hell again. Dean cried out when the demon dropped his arm against the column and the fire coursing through his blood stopped. He opened his eyes and glared at Ornias, trying to control his breathing. It smiled in approval at Dean’s arm and narrowed its orange eyes.

                “Now tell me, Dean. How many times have these thoughts occurred to you? I can feel it in your blood- the alcohol, the sex, the midnight drives- they were only temporary solutions to hold back the emotions that raged within you. But this, you couldn’t do this with Sammy around, could you?” Dean jerked at the mention of his brother, then winced when his arm slid across the rough stone. “Sam would’ve seen, would’ve wondered just how crazy his older brother actually was. And then, when you got out of control, he would’ve left. Just like everyone else.”

                “You know nothing about him,” Dean hissed through his teeth, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this.

                A laugh. “No, but you do. He could’ve had a normal life if it wasn’t for you. No hunting, no killing, no Lucifer. College, Jess, maybe even a few kids. But you, Dean, you took it all away. Now look at him- broken, dying, and it’s all thanks to you. You couldn’t even let him die in peace.”

                “Stop it,” Dean pleaded.

                Nothing happened for a moment, but Ornias’s response came when it took hold of Dean’s left arm and his body began to burn again.

 

                Sam had been searching awhile, and other than a few piles of black ash and a human skeleton, he hadn’t found anything that would signify a demonic presence. And although Sam had stopped and searched through what he surmised was the boss’s office and where the workers gathered before heading off to work, he wondered how he and Dean had not crossed paths again.

                Which had caused a tiny voice in the back of his mind to tell him to search a little faster and find his brother. Most of the building had been destroyed a long time ago by a fire that had started in the factory, and it was apparent that it had been a large and terrifying fire that had claimed quite a few lives. Sam had gazed through the debris of the first floor and when he was part of the way through the second, he began to hear what sounded like scraping noises coming from the opposite side of the room. He slowly moved towards to the source of the sound and peered around a corner. The light from the flashlight fell on two raccoons who had been crawling around and digging until the Sam disturbed them. As they ran away and into a hole in the wall, Sam heard someone yell from the floor above.

                _Dean._

                He ran.

 

                With a decent amount of Dean’s blood running down his arms and legs and onto the floor, Ornias had stepped back to admire its work. Dean didn’t have enough energy to struggle or lift his head, and his breathing had become slow and uneven. He hoped that Sam was unharmed and although Dean knew otherwise, that his brother had left the factory.

                “I suppose you’re wondering if I’ll kill you or not, or perhaps at this point, you want me to, just so little Sammy doesn’t have to see you like this.” The demon paused. “Or maybe you don’t want to see what becomes of your brother?”

                Dean lifted his head and stared at Ornias.

                “After all, he can’t stop what he doesn’t know about, now can he?” the demon taunted, having learned through the Winchester’s blood about Sam’s newest “issue.” Dean turned away again, the gash on his neck releasing a new pulse of blood. Every cut in his skin burned while he tried to twist away from the demon. Dean knew that if he died from blood loss now, he would never get the chance to apologise to Kevin, Cas, and Sam for all the things he dragged them through, for all the mistakes he made. He ceased moving against the invisible force that held him to the wall and looked through the unwanted tears at his captor.

                There wasn’t too much clean skin left on his body; marks had been left on this arms, thighs, neck, and recently, his chest and sides. The demon’s nails had ripped through his shirt and jeans, and now both were soaked with his own blood. He felt his vision blur and room spin, but Dean fought to stay awake. To close his eyes meant death, and he had little desire to return to Hell. He had to protect Sam.

                When Ornias cried out in pain and fire glowed from its eyes, Dean felt his body being released from the demon’s grasp and he fell to the floor. Even with huge waves of pain jumping throughout his body, the hunter looked up in time to see Sam pull the knife from the back of the demon and the body fall to the ground before everything faded and the world went black.

               

                Dean woke up sore and exhausted, and laying on a crappy motel bed. He turned to find a clock and gasped as his side and leg burned. Sam jumped up from the table by the door.

                “Hey, Dean, take it easy. Try not to move too much,” he said, walking towards the bed. Dean ignored him and stood, realising that he was in a t-shirt and pajama pants, and that there were loose bandages around his arms, thighs, and torso. He glanced at Sam, who looked like he had been awake all night, with a questioning look. Dean didn’t need his brother to think he was weak or needed taking care of- he’d be fine. He turned away.

                “Dean-” Sam started as his brother walked towards the bathroom. The eldest Winchester slowly rotated and faced his brother. Sam could see that he had every defense up, ready to defend himself against anything Sam had to say. All things considered, however, Sam wanted to know what had happened with the orange-eyed demon he had stabbed and his brother, who had passed out from pain and blood loss as soon as he had arrived. Sam’s shoulders gave in a little bit as he looked at Dean. “What happened?”

                Dean looked away and he began to clench and unclench his jaw. He did not want to repeat the conversation between him and the demon, but he was tired of the lies. But when Dean opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out. So he shrugged his shoulders and said, “There’s nothing to tell. The son of a bitch got the better of me, and you stopped it. The monster’s dead, the town saved, end of story.” He gazed at Sam and forced a smile.

                Sam just gave Dean a look and sighed. “Dean, who do you think fixed you up? He didn’t just ‘get the better of you,’ he tore your skin apart. Why?”

                “Probably because we tried to lock its kind in Hell and shut the gates forever. Why else?”

                There was silence in the room for a few moments before Sam grabbed his jacket and turned for the door. “I’m going to run out for gas and supplies. Anything you want?”

                Dean paused for a beat and shook his head. Sam hovered as though he expected another answer and then left.

                When Dean walked into the bathroom, he tried carefully pulling the bandages off of his left arm. He shut his eyes against the pain that came with each scab accidently pulled up with the cloth. Sam had managed to stitch shut the deeper gashes in his upper forearm and assumed that he had done the same for the right. After undressing his arm and stopping the blood that came from a few of the unhealed cuts, Dean sat on the edge of the tub and counted. Twelve angry, red lines covered his skin, and he didn’t know whether to smirk or grind his teeth when he realised the irony behind his arms adding up to twenty-four.

                With every movement he made causing pain to crawl across his skin, Dean decided to just stay there. For thirty years he had suppressed any and every emotion that had gotten in the way of him protecting Sam, and Ornias had brought every ounce of it back all in one night. Every once in a long while, especially after returning from Hell, he’d thought about not just the pain but the relief that comes with blood. He knew it was ridiculous- that habit wouldn’t help someone like him, and he’d always settle with drinking away a bottle or three. Now, Dean had these marks on his arms, whether he wanted them or not, and every lie, fight, and injury was fresh in his mind. Ornias had not only caused pain, but brought up _everything_ Dean had buried deep inside.

                His legs burned as he stood up too quickly, but he didn’t want to think about this. He turned on the shower and slowly undressed the rest of his aching body. Dean tried to not think about how much the water stung or how much he probably deserved it, but after failing to fight off the thoughts, it came in a rush that left him sobbing in the bathroom.

 

                When Sam came back, Dean was facing the wall on the far bed, asleep. He put the small bag on the table and placed his jacket on the other bed. Sam flinched, noting the new bandages on his brother’s visible arm and his wet hair and realising how badly that procedure must have hurt. He sat down on the bed for a few minutes, wondering about his brother, before Dean woke with a start and rolled over.

                “What are you looking at?” Dean snapped, turning to sit up and cursing in the process.

                “Dean, relax. I’m not here to interrogate you. If you don’t want to talk to me, fine. I get it. I don’t like it, but I won’t push it,” Sam said, watching his brother attempt to pull his jacket on without scraping his arms or neck. “I just don’t want you to keep holding it down. It doesn’t help- it never does.”

                Dean stopped moving around and looked at Sam. He knew his kid brother had stopped being a kid long ago, though sometimes it was hard for him to treat Sam as such. Dean relaxed his shoulders and sat at the end of his bed, jeans scratching against the cloth on his legs. He ran his hand along his jaw, thinking to himself.

                “He could only hurt those ‘born under the Water Bearer,’ as he said, but he got other demons to kill for him. That’s why we never realised that we were dealing with an upper level demon.”

                Sam nodded once, though Dean couldn’t see him.

                “He appeared behind me, and although I got him with the knife, he still had enough juice to hold me against the wall.” Dean paused and rubbed his hands together, glancing at Sam. “He, uh, talked a lot of crap. About you, about me, about everything that’s going on- you know, angels and stuff. He made sure to remind me how none of it would’ve happened if I had just…” he trailed off and cleared his throat, looking at his feet. “If I had protected you-”

                Sam scoffed and stood up, walking in front of Dean. “Dean, I’ve told you! I don’t need protecting, and it’s not your job to shield me from the ‘big, bad’ world. You don’t have to ‘protect’ everyone.” He let his arms fall to his sides. “You just have to take care of yourself. That’s it, Dean. Me, Cas, Kevin- we’re okay. It’s not all up to you.”

                Dean didn’t say anything for several moments, just grabbed his shoes and pulled them on. He got up and looked at his brother.

                “Okay,” he said quietly. Sam stared at him, trying to read his face, and nodded.

                “Okay.”

                Dean walked over to the table and grabbed the keys to the Impala. “Now can we head back to Kansas?”

                Sam picked up his jacket and motioned towards the bag on the table. Dean cast a look at Sam and opened the bag. A huge smile appeared on his face.

                “Pie?” he asked.

                Sam laughed. “Yes, pie.”

                They walked out of the room and got into the car.

                “Thanks, Sam.”

                “Of course, Dean.”

               

                


End file.
